


Letters

by ericaismeg



Series: 30 Days of Writing [5]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 30 Days of Writing, Alternate Universe - Bakery, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - No Hale Fire, Emails, Everyone Is Alive, Letters, Love Letters, M/M, Mama's Bakery, Mentioned Kate Argent, Online Friendship, Secret Admirer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-02
Updated: 2014-05-02
Packaged: 2018-01-21 15:35:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1555433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ericaismeg/pseuds/ericaismeg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Stiles, this is getting ridiculous. Can you please do something about it?” Lydia demands. “Do anything. I don’t care. Go up and kiss him, ask him to prom this year, write him secret admirer love letters, whatever. Just do something.”</p><p>***</p><p>OR: The one where Lydia sets up an email account for Stiles to "confess his love" for Derek. And as fate would have it, they also end up becoming friends in person at the same time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Letters

**Author's Note:**

> I've decided to attempt this [writing challenge.](http://foxerica.tumblr.com/post/84097258077/felicitygs-spontaneousfangasm)
> 
> Day Five.
> 
> The word of the day is: letters.

            “Stiles, this is getting ridiculous. Can you please do _something_ about it?” Lydia demands. He tears his eyes away from Derek Hale, gorgeous, senior jock, and looks at Lydia. She’s giving him her stern, no-nonsense look. _Great_. “Do anything. I don’t care. Go up and kiss him, ask him to prom this year, write him secret admirer love letters, whatever. Just do something.”

            “Lydia, _I_ can’t just go and confess my undying love for Derek Hale,” Stiles whines. He tries to win her over with his best puppy dog look, but she just rolls her eyes.

            “Why not?”

            “He’s the most popular guy in school, for one. He barely knows I exist, for two. And finally, he’s Derek freaking Hale. I’m not sure that would go over well,” Stiles mumbles.

            She sighs, and looks at Allison, who’s just sitting down with them, for support. “Do you think Stiles should do something about his crush?”

            “Crush? I think you mean obsession,” Allison teases. Stiles gives her his best dirty look, but then she smiles. Dammit, Scott’s right. No one can be upset with Allison. “I think that’s a great idea though! Stiles, you should totally do something. Flirt with him.”

            “ _No_ , that’s so embarrassing.” Stiles ducks his head. “He would probably just kick me off the lacrosse team.”

            “Like that’d be a hardship,” Lydia comments. He tries to give her a dirty look too, but she’s smiling so sweetly he can’t. Goddammit, why are all the women in his life so difficult to be upset with?

            “Do it anonymously then,” Allison suggests. “But not creepy anonymously.”

            “No!” Stiles says, a little louder than any of them expect. He glances around for Scott, but Scott must be running late. Odd, he never runs late when it comes to Allison. His eyes land on Derek, but only for a moment. The guy is laughing. God, he has _such_ a nice laugh. “I just…can’t. It’s better if there’s no chance of rejection.”

            Lydia starts paying attention to her phone, and Stiles relaxes. Allison just pats his hand. “Stiles, you don’t know that he’ll reject you.”

            “Why would he _accept_ me?” he counters.

            She raises an eyebrow. “Stiles, you’re one of my favourite people. Why _wouldn’t_ he like you?”

            “You have to like me, you’re dating Scott.”

            “No,” Allison says, shaking her head. “I don’t _have_ to like you. I _do_ like you. If I didn’t like you, why would I be sitting here without my boyfriend hanging out with my two friends?”

            “Alright, fine, but that’s _you_ and not _Derek_.”

            “If you gave him a chance to get to know you,” Allison starts.

            “Nope,” Stiles says, shaking his head.

            “Do you like me?” Allison asks, tilting her head at him.

            Stiles snorts. “Allison, I do. I just,” he waves his hands around, “am arguing for the sake of the argument.”

            She pats his hand again when it settles on the table.

            “I just set up an email account,” Lydia says, turning her cell phone to Stiles. “I have Derek’s email from the last dance committee.”

            Stiles blinks at her words. “Why was Derek on the dance committee?”

            “He’s always been on the dance committee,” Lydia responds. She gives him _that_ look—as though this is information that he should’ve known already. “He likes to make sure that the lacrosse team promotes it, and gets a discount for going.”

            “What?! Why haven’t I ever gotten a discount?” Stiles demands.

            “No idea,” Lydia says with a smirk. “It might be the whole you-sit-on-the-bench-thing. But you know those boys. They whine and bitch about having to go to the school dances, so Derek found a way to make it more enjoyable for them. And he gets a little pull in certain aspects.”

            “Oh,” Stiles grumbles. He takes her phone. “My new email is _letterstoyou_? What is this?”

            “Write him a letter,” Lydia says, smiling. “Tell him how you feel. He will _never_ know it’s you if you don’t tell him. Make sure they’re vague enough that you don’t accidentally tell him.”

            “ _Letterstoyou_ is cheesy,” Stiles mumbles.

            “I think it’s cute!” Allison says, supportively.

            “Whatever. I’m not doing this,” Stiles says, shaking his head. He passes Lydia’s phone back to her.

            “The password is _derekfreakinghale_ , just so you know. And I added his email to the contacts list.”

            He frowns at the information. He has to admit, he does say ‘Derek freaking Hale’ often enough that he’s not surprised that that would be his password.

            Scott joins them a few seconds later and says, “Hey guys, what have I missed?”

            Stiles eyes both Lydia and Allison, silently telling them to keep their mouths shut.

            It doesn’t matter. Lydia says, “Stiles is going to anonymously confess his feelings of love to Derek.”

            Scott gives a little shout, and claps Stiles on the back. “Wow, good for you buddy.”

            “I’m _not_ ,” Stiles says.

            No one seems to believe him. He looks across the courtyard to see that Derek’s getting up. He high-fives his friend, Danny, and then heads inside.

            Stiles will _not_ be confessing his ‘love’ for Derek Hale over a freaking anonymous email. He won’t be.

 

♚♞♚♞♚♞

 

            Another week and a half passes by before Stiles thinks about the email account Lydia had set-up. He’s sitting in the school library, on his laptop, and he can see Derek sitting at a table close by him. It’s not that he’s been dying to get Derek’s attention, or that he _wants_ to confess his stupid feelings from afar.

            It’s just that Derek looks like he’s having a rough day today. He keeps running his fingers through his dark hair, which is totally okay with Stiles because it’s giving him the messy bed hair look, and he’s been tapping his damn pen against the desk for the past twenty minutes. Stiles can tell the guy is stressed out.

            Maybe getting an anonymous email telling him that he’s a great guy would make him smile.

            Stiles hates himself.

            But he still signs into _letterstoyou_.

            And if he’s doing this, he’s going to be fucking cute about it. Why half-ass something like this anyway?

           

**~~Consider this email your daily dose of~~ **

**~~Hello!~~ **

**~~Dear Derek,~~ **

**~~You’re super fucking sexy! LET’S HAVE SEX. Let’s do the do~~~~ **

****

**Derek,**

**My friends are pure evil. They setup this account for me, because they thought this would be a perfectly acceptable (it’s not) way to “confess” my “crush” on you. I’m not writing to do that though (who does that?).**

**I’m writing because I saw you at school today. You seemed to be having a rough day. I hope you know that someone out there likes your smile! (Me, okay, shut up). I thought maybe I could help you out (I don’t know, I’m winging this!).**

**If you’re stressed out, I suggest cookies. You can never be super stressed eating cookies, can you? The best kind is definitely oatmeal chocolate chip cookies. Maybe you should decide to treat yourself. There’s this awesome little bakery on Maple Street. It’s above the bowling alley (SUCH a weird spot for it but DUDE, their cookies are to DIE FOR). Why are you still reading this? GO.**

**Hope your week gets better,**

**Cookie Lover**

            He hits send, and then frowns at his screen. Had he _really_ just wrote that? He had. Stiles mentally groans and turns the page in his textbook. He should be focusing on this stupid history paper that’s due next week, and less on Derek’s mood.

            But then he glances up and catches Derek smiling at his screen. And all Stiles wants is for it to be because of him. _Please_ , Stiles thinks.

He turns his music up on his headphones, but he doesn’t truly concentrate on history paper until fifteen minutes when he sees Derek packing up to leave. They make brief eye contact, so Stiles ducks his head again. He needs to get an A on this paper, if only to prove that his crush on Derek freaking Hale isn’t ruining his life.

 

♚♞♚♞♚♞

 

            Around 9pm that night, Stiles’ phone buzzes. He rolls over on his bed and picks it up. It’s not Scott texting him back, but a new email.

            **1 new email from dhale**

            He feels his heart start to race without permission, and his chest gets a little tight. He lets his finger hover over the button to open the email, and then slaps his hand over his eyes before he hits it.

            _Oh god, oh god, oh god_ , he thinks. He tries to focus on his breathing, telling himself that no matter what the email says, he can handle it.

            “Stop _it_ ,” he tells himself firmly. It has no affect.

            He peeks and sees the word “ **thanks** ”. Stiles takes his hand away from his eyes, and finds himself about to devour the email.

 

**Hello Cookie Lover (really?),**

**I don’t know who you are, and that’s probably less awkward for us both. But I took up your suggestion (because you were right, today was a shitty day) and went to Mama’s Bakery. Those cookies were the best cookies I’ve ever had. Definitely worth the sketchy trip.**

**Obviously you know who I am, so I’m not going to get into why I was having a shitty day. But I will tell you this: you were the only one who noticed.**

**So thanks.**

**You made my day better,  
** **D.**

Stiles stares at his screen. He must reread the email at least seven times before he decides to close it. He lies back down on his bed and thinks about Derek’s response. He can’t help himself. He feels special. He’s the _only_ one who noticed Derek was having a crap day.

            Then it hits him.

            Derek had gone to Mama’s Bakery based on his suggestion. _Holy shit_. He hadn’t actually expected that. He’d expected that Derek would read the email and ignore it. Yet he didn’t. He took the time out of his day to respond to a stranger’s email.

            Stiles fights the smile, but it explodes onto his face anyway. He grabs a pillow and squeezes it close to his chest. Derek Hale had been a crush from afar, an out-of-reach fantasy. Suddenly, Stiles has a feeling that he could get himself into serious trouble.

            He falls asleep, still clutching his pillow, still smiling broadly, because _Derek Hale is a nice guy._

 

♚♞♚♞♚♞

 

            He decides not to tell anyone about yesterday’s emails. Instead, he slips into his usual seat in the courtyard. Allison joins him a few minutes later.

            “Hey Stiles, how are you today?” she asks.

            “I’m absolutely great. How are _you_ , Allison? Is Scotty-boy treating you well?” he asks, sounding happier than he probably has any right to be.

            She raises her eyebrows, but doesn’t ask. Just gives him a nod, a smile, and says, “Scott is _wonderful_. What’s got you so happy?”

            “Nothing in particular,” Stiles says, grinning. He sees Lydia walk into the courtyard. She gives them a wave with her fingers as she walks towards them. Derek follows her, eyes down at his cell phone as he heads towards his table. He frowns as he puts his phone into his pocket. Stiles watches as he smiles at his friends who greet him.

            “Does it have to do with Derek?” Allison whispers before Lydia can hear.

            “Nope,” Stiles says as Lydia sits down in her usual spot. “I’m just in a good mood.”

            “Oh gross,” Lydia says, but she’s laughing a little. “I don’t need to know what you did this morning.”

            Stiles isn’t embarrassed. He’d had a great time in his bed and then again in the shower. His body still isn’t completely relaxed though. He’s been tense ever since he read Derek’s email. He high-fives Scott when he joins them a second later.

            “Jackson’s joining us today. _Play nice_ ,” Lydia warns. She points a finger at Stiles, and then Scott.

            “Please, I’m _always_ nice,” Stiles says. It earns a snort from Scott.

            When Jackson does leave the lacrosse table to sit down beside Lydia, he gives her a big kiss. Apparently, he still thinks that Stiles has a crush on her. He likes to make a point that he’s dating Lydia whenever he can. Stiles glances past their kissing to see that Derek’s watching them. He looks away when his eyes meet Stiles’.

            He was probably wondering why Jackson came over to their table. Scott and Stiles aren’t exactly popular. It doesn’t matter though. He spends the rest of lunch making fun of Jackson, who snaps sassy remarks back.

            It’s the most fun he’s had in a while.

 

♚♞♚♞♚♞

 

            When Stiles settles into his seat in the library, he pulls his laptop and textbook out of his backpack. Derek had sat at a table closer to him today, because someone else was at the other one. Stiles tries to ignore that. He puts his headphones in, and watches as Derek picks up his phone every few minutes.

            It crosses Stiles’ mind that Derek might be waiting for another email from _letterstoyou_ , but Stiles doesn’t want to be disappointed if Derek doesn’t respond to a second email.

            Then again, he hadn’t expected a response from the first one.

            He starts typing, pretending to occasionally glance at his textbook as though he’s doing work.

 

**Derek,**

**Dang, I was hoping you’d find the sign off Cookie Lover cute. Let me get over my embarrassment.**

**I’m almost sorry that you were having a shitty day yesterday, but then again, I’m happy that you took my suggestion to go to Mama’s Bakery! If you ever happen to go again, definitely try Mama’s cheesecake—it doesn’t even matter what kind. They’re all mini-orgasms.**

**I understand that you’re in an unfair position, since I know you and you don’t know me and therefore cannot trust me (totally fair, dude). So I thought I’d tell you something that very few people know about me. When I was seven, I couldn’t swim. Or rather, I was _terrified_ of swimming. My parents made me take swimming lessons. I refused to go under water, so the coach threw me into the water (with floaties on, mind you!) and I had my first panic attack. I also said my first swear word (asshole).**

**I ended up failing swimming lessons. The coach told my mom to bring me back the following year, and we’d try again. Same thing happened, and I was kicked out again. I never really learned how to swim, so whenever my friends and I go to the beach, I’m the seventeen-year-old in floaties. If I’m around people that I don’t know well/like, I just chill in the shallow-end.**

**Also, I’m surprised I’m the only one who noticed you were having a shit day. You’re surrounded by so many people.**

**But you’re welcome.**

**I hope your day was better than mine,**   
**A.**   
**(For anonymous, admirer, you choose).**

He hits send, deciding that he doesn’t care if it’s a bit long. Derek would probably read it and ignore it. That’s okay with Stiles. However, a few minutes later, he hears Derek let out a laugh, and Stiles’ head shoots up.

            He’s not sure what his face reads as, but Derek realizes he’s staring at him. He says, “Sorry, funny email.”

            “Uh,” Stiles says, trying not to let his mouth hang open. He shrugs. “Totally cool.”

            Derek gives him an apologetic smile and then opens his laptop. After a minute, he’s typing. Stiles tries to concentrate on his history paper. He really does. But knowing that Derek just said _funny email_ and that it’s probably in regards to _his_ email, well, how is he supposed to give a shit about the past when his present is getting interesting?

            He tries to focus, but then his phone lights up. He opens his email on his laptop again.

            **dhale** sent him another email. _Wow_.

 

**A,**

**I’ll definitely keep the cheesecakes in mind.**

**Your story about swimming made me laugh aloud at the school library. I disrupted someone’s focus. I’m going to tell you a story, without mentioning any names so you’ll have no proof of who it is…deal?**

**When I was twelve, my dog died. I was upset, and this kid comes over. He grabbed my hand, and he told me that he’d just lost his mother. I felt worse, (loss of dog does not compare to one’s mother), and he said to me, “You and I can’t do anything about my mom or your dog. But we can make today a little less bad together.”**

**We just sat there together, mourning. We haven’t talked since that. I’ve never told anyone this. Please don’t try to figure it out. I just…was thinking about it today.**

**Can I make your day a little less bad?  
D.**

Stiles stares at the screen. He’s not sure what he’s supposed to respond to Derek with, because _he_ was that little boy that Derek wrote about. That’s _him_ in that story. Why had Derek been thinking about it today?

            Stiles scribbles some notes onto his notebook, and when he glances up, he realizes that Derek’s watching him. He ducks his head back down.

            He never really thought about whether or not Derek remembered that moment. Stiles rarely thinks about it. His crush on Derek had only appeared two years ago. He decides to leave it for now, and work on his stupid paper.

            When he packs up, Derek’s still sitting at his computer. Stiles tucks his pencil into his backpack and then turns to leave. Derek makes eye contact with him, and it holds him still for a second.

            Then he gives Derek a nod, receives a nod back, and he walks pass him to leave.

            He pulls out his phone and calls Lydia.

            “ _Hello_ ,” Lydia says.

            “Lyds, I did it.”

            “ _Did what, Stiles_?” she asks, and he hears the distinct sound of a piece of paper turning.

            “I emailed him,” Stiles says when he gets into his Jeep. “From the email you setup.”

            “ _And_?” Lydia’s always been straight to the point.

            “And he emailed me back,” Stiles says. He flails an arm around, even though she can’t see him.

            “ _Really_?” Now she sounds surprised. And interested.

            “Yes! And so I emailed him back. And then he emailed _me_ back, and he told me a story about him and I when we were kids.” Stiles sighs. “Lydia, _he remembers me_ from the day after I lost my mother.”

            “ _Did he name you in the story_?” Lydia demands.

            “No! No, he didn’t.” Stiles frowns. “Lydia, what am I supposed to do?”

            “ _Reply_ ,” she says. “ _Stiles, clearly he’s intrigued by the emails. Keep it up, and maybe you’ll get to a place where you can finally admit who you are._ ”

            “Okay,” Stiles says slowly. He hasn’t left the school parking lot, and so he’s about to turn his Jeep on when he sees Derek walking out of the school. “I think my crush might be getting worse.”

            “ _At least you’ll get to know him a bit_ ,” Lydia tells him. “ _Jackson’s here. We’ll talk tomorrow, Stiles._ ”

            “Okay, love you,” he says, distracted by the way that Derek is watching him as he walks towards his Camaro.

            “ _Love you too,_ ” Lydia responds.

            Stiles casually pulls his phone away from his ear, and hangs up. Then it hits him that he’d been distracted the first time he and Lydia said their ‘I love yous’. He frowns at his phone and then tosses it in the passenger seat.

            He turns his Jeep on, pulling out after Derek. _Dammit_ , he moves fast.

            Feeling creepy for following Derek, he wants to turn the other direction. That would be stupid though. He decides he has to turn and follow Derek for obvious reasons. _Everyone_ knows where he lives.

            He knows that Derek has to drive past his house to get to the Hale’s house, and decides to make a detour to go to Mama’s Bakery. He mentioned those cheesecakes, and wants one now.

            He turns down a back road, feeling a little less tension since he isn’t driving behind Derek now, and pulls into the back parking lot of Mama’s Bakery.

            Stiles gets out and jogs up the stairs.

            “It smells like _heaven_ today,” Stiles declares when he pushes the door open. Erica Reyes, a girlfriend of one of the guys on the lacrosse team, steps up to the counter.

            “Stilinski,” she greets. She’s smiling at him though. She’s always liked Stiles, which is great because he adores Erica.

            “How is my favourite girl doing today?” Stiles asks.

            Erica laughs. “Stiles, if Lydia or Allison ever heard you say that, there would most definitely be some hurt feelings.”

            “What they don’t know can’t hurt them,” Stiles responds. He leans on the counter. “What cheesecakes do you have?”

            “Today it’s strawberry, forest berry, New York, and blueberry.” Erica grabs two plates. Usually she sits down with Stiles to enjoy whatever he buys and they talk. It’s almost always dead here—Mama’s Bakery does a lot of catering though, so that’s where the majority of their profit comes from.

            “Uhhh,” Stiles thinks it over. “I’m feeling classic today.”

            “Me too,” Erica says, smiling. She grabs two pieces and then two forks. She hands Stiles’ one, and they head over to the only window seat in the bakery. “How have you been?”

            “I’ve been good. I do have news though…that has to stay between us. What about yourself?” Stiles takes a bite from the cheese cake and moans. It’s so damn good. He loves Mama’s so much.

            That’s when the door opens. They look at each other, surprised because no one ever comes in, and then look over to see Derek Hale has entered the bakery. _Derek Hale is in the bakery_. It takes Stiles a few seconds to comprehend the situation, but Erica grins and gets up. “Derek, back again? I’m guessing you enjoyed the cookies.”

            “They were…great,” Derek says. He’s looking at Stiles, who’s swallowing the piece of cheesecake he’d had in his mouth. He takes a deep breath, hoping that Derek can’t see the way his body trembles at this distance.

            Stiles points at his cheesecake. “You should get a piece of this. It’s good.”

            “Yeah, sure, I’ll take the same. To, uh, go,” Derek says.

            “Are you sure you don’t want to join us?” Erica asks, pouting as she pulls out a slice for Derek. “We just talk trash about stuff. It’s great.”

            Stiles gives Derek a nod when he looks over, silently asking for permission. Derek shrugs. “Sure, why not?”

            _Holy shit_. Stiles wonders if Derek’s put two and two together. It’s highly suspicious that he’s eating a piece of cheesecake that he’d _just_ talked about to Derek. He pulls out his phone and sends Derek a quick email. It’s perfect, because Erica’s distracting Derek by asking him if he’d like ice cream. She knows he prefers his cheesecake without ice cream, so she never asks him anymore.

 

**D,**

**That’s a depressing/uplifting story. I’m at work right now, so I’ll email you later tonight.**

**Have a good one,  
A.**

            Short, simple, and puts Derek’s anonymous person somewhere else. Stiles sees Derek pull his phone out to read the email as he walks over with his cheesecake in hand. Erica pulls over a third chair, and he sits down.

            He looks disappointed, and Stiles is _positive_ it’s because his anonymous emailer just sent a short email. It has nothing to do with the fact that Derek had hoped that it’s Stiles. That makes Stiles sad.

            “So, Derek,” Stiles starts to say before he realizes he doesn’t know where to go from that. He settles with, “I was just asking Erica how she was today.”

            “I’m fucking _wonderful_. Boyd came over this morning,” Erica says, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. “God, he is _so_ good at what he does. I didn’t mind going into first period. I mean, all those suckers sitting there while I felt like _well_ taken-care-of woman. Then we met up on spare…”

            “I don’t want to know this about Boyd,” Derek interrupts.

            Stiles wiggles his fork at Derek. “This is pretty tame for her. You can ask Erica to leave out all the details, but she’ll just shove them down your throat.”

            “Boyd shoved something down my throat this morning,” Erica says with a smirk. “ _So deep_.”

            Derek groans, but there’s a small laugh and Stiles shakes his head in amusement. He looks at Stiles. “Is she just making it worse because I asked her not to?”

            “Oh yeah,” Stiles says, grinning. He meets Erica’s eyes. “Boyd lucked out though. This one’s a keeper.”

            “ _Stiles_ ,” she says, her eyes sparkling. “That’s so sweet. I love you too.”

            “Yeah, yeah,” he says, waving his fork in the air. Derek catches his wrist and pushes Stiles’ hand down. Stiles just raises an eyebrow. Inside his heart is pounding seriously fast.

            Erica turns to Derek, “So how was your day?”

            “Good,” he says, with a shrug.

            “That’s _it_?” Erica says.

            “That’s it,” he responds.

            “What did you do…? Who did you talk to…?” Erica stares at him, until he answers.

            “Nothing unusual, except coming here I guess. Talked to everyone I usually talk to.” Derek shrugs. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

            “I don’t know either, _but_ I will tell you guys about how Jackson’s an annoying prick,” Stiles says, figuring that Derek needs saving. He looks grateful as Stiles launches into the story of spending lunch with Jackson.

            It makes Erica laugh, and Derek’s looking amused too.

            That brings up a bone that Erica has with Jackson, and finally leads to Derek giving in. “Jackson’s a jerk, but he’s a damn good lacrosse player.”

            “Please,” Stiles says, rolling his eyes. “You’re twice a better player than him.”

            “I…thanks,” Derek says, surprised.

            “Boyd, Danny, and Isaac are all better players too.” Stiles shakes his head.

            “You sit on the bench every game, but I’ve seen you in practice. You could be first line with Scott,” Derek says.

            Stiles snorts. “Why does everyone want me off the bench? I _like_ the bench. I get to pretend I’m part of a team, without the pressure. It’s great.”

            “Don’t take Stiles too seriously,” Erica tells Derek. “Ever. But I’ve bugged him about it too. He really does like the bench.”

            Derek nods. “That’s…interesting.”

            “Not really,” Stiles says, laughing. “It’s kind of anticlimactic. I think that most bench warmers _want_ to be first line so badly, and then there’s me.”

            “Well,” Erica says, as she takes her last piece of cheesecake. “There are worse things in life than enjoying a bench.”

            The door opens and a forty-something woman walks in. She smiles, and Erica gets up to serve her.

            Stiles takes the second last bite of his cheesecake while Derek quietly asks him, “How did you find out about this bakery?”

            He swallows and nods at Erica. “She told me it was the best. They do mainly catering, but this is kind of their side business. How did you hear about it?”

            Derek thinks the answer over, and says, “A friend.”

            “Who?” Stiles asks, before he realizes that Derek doesn’t know his ‘friend’. He watches as he tries to formulate an answer.

            He settles with, “I don’t remember.”

            “I usually come in to bug Erica on Tuesdays and Thursdays,” Stiles tells him. He’s not sure why. “We sit here, and talk about shit.”

            “Sorry for interrupting—”

            “No, _dude_ ,” Stiles says, laughing. “I’m letting you know in case you want to join us.”

            Derek blinks a couple of times. Then he nods. “I…I think I’d like that. Thanks.”

            “Bonehead.” Stiles isn’t sure what makes him feel brave enough to say it. But it makes Derek laugh loudly, and it’s worth it.

            When Erica finishes with the customer, Stiles picks up all three of their plates. He stacks them, and puts them on the counter for Erica who’s saying goodbye to the woman. She frowns at him. “You better tip me good, Stilinski. Making me do your dirty dishes.”

            “It’s your _job_ , Erica,” he responds. It gets him a dirty look.

            “What was that thing you had to tell me about?” she asks, lowered voice.

            “I’ll text you,” he promises. Louder, he says, “I should probably head out now.”

            “Me too,” Derek says, standing up. He joins Stiles at the counter. Stiles hands her the exact change, whereas Derek has to wait for change back.

            “You two are going to leave me all alone up here,” Erica says, pouting. “What if someone comes and robs me?”

            “Please. I’d be more worried about the robber,” Stiles retorts.

            She practically purrs. “Aw, thanks, Stilinski. Do you want a piece for your dad? I forgot to ask.”

            “Ah, no, it’s probably best if we skip it tonight. Maybe next week.”

            “Sure,” she says. “Text me, will you?”

            “I will,” he responds. “Make sure you let me know when you get home.”

            “Sure thing, sugar.” Erica turns to Derek, who’s been watching their exchange. “You have yourself a good night, Derek. Hopefully you’ll join us again?”

            “Only if you leave the details about Boyd and your mouth out of it,” Derek deadpans.

            Stiles is still laughing when he gets to the bottom of the stairs. He pushes the back door open, and stops when he realizes that Derek isn’t following him. “Didn’t you park out back?”

            “Uh, no. I parked a few blocks over because I couldn’t find parking.”

            Stiles shakes his head. “There’s an actual parking lot back here. Want a ride to your car?”

            “Uh, sure.” Derek follows him out.

            Since when has Stiles been this relaxed around Derek? He supposes it has to do with the few emails they’ve exchanged. He feels like he _can_ talk to Derek suddenly, because Derek’s been nothing but warm and nice in his responses.

            “I’m glad you stayed,” Stiles admits when they get into his Jeep and he turns it on. Derek points to the direction of his car when they reach the road.

            “Me too. It was fun.”

            “I take it that you haven’t hung around Erica much?” Stiles prompts when he turns left at Derek’s silent instruction.

            “No, just when she’s with Boyd. They’re usually in their own world though,” Derek adds.

            “I bet. Whenever she talks about him or his name is mentioned, she gets this soft expression. You can see it in her eyes mainly. Watch for it, because it’s fucking cute,” Stiles laughs. “I’ve only talked to Boyd a handful of times, but he’s cool.”

            Derek points for Stiles to turn right.

            “Ah, there it is,” Stiles says, pulling behind Derek’s Camaro. “She’s a beauty.”

            “Your Jeep is…” Derek fails to be able to pull a compliment out of thin air.

            “She’s mine,” Stiles responds, with a grin. “It’s okay. Scott wants me to get a new one, but…I just can’t.”

            “I get that. Thanks for the ride,” Derek says.

            “It was two blocks,” Stiles says, snorting. “Hardly anything.”

            “Still,” Derek murmurs. Before he gets out of the vehicle, he says, “Thanks, Stiles.”

            _Say my name, say it again_ , Stiles thinks instantly. He mumbles, “T’was a pleasure.”

            Derek gives him a confused look, but then gets out of the Jeep.

            Stiles groans, but just pulls away.

 

♚♞♚♞♚♞

            He texts Erica telling her to join his table at lunch tomorrow—he’s coming clean to his friends. There would be questions. Just after that, his phone buzzes with an email.

 

 **D,**

**I promise you that I won’t tell anyone anything you tell me that's super personal. Deal? Deal. (You can use this as legal evidence if you want, if I were to break that promise. But I won’t.)**

**I had a great day, actually. It was a little surprising. But I’m definitely willing to have you attempt to make it better :)**

**Thanks for being cool about this.**

**I did mean it when my friends setup the email.**

**But thanks, dude.**   
  
**A.**

            Stiles hits send. He had waited until around 8pm before sending it. He didn’t want to respond immediately when he got home. That would’ve been too suspicious. His phone vibrates six minutes later.

 

**A,**

**It’s too soon. Let’s work up to that?**

**I’m glad you had a great day. Make it better? Well, it’s too late to do this now. Since you introduced me to a new place to get good food, I’ll introduce you (hopefully) to my favourite book. I haven’t found anyone else who’s been willing to read it.**

**_The Adventures of Robin Hood_ ** **by Howard Pyle. I know everyone knows the story, or the base of the story, but the book itself is excellent. I have two copies. I could leave one somewhere for you to pick up? Practice our spy skills, or something.**

**Trust me. It’ll make your day better. I guess, if you can read a book in a day like I can. If not, it’ll make your week?**

**I won’t lie, I told my sisters about this. They think it’s beyond cute. Something like A Cinderella Story? I think it’s a movie that _isn’t_ the Disney version? And I guess I’m mainly flattered that someone likes me enough to do this.**

**You probably know what my year was like last year.**   
  
**D.**

Stiles reads it twice. He’s surprised at how long Derek’s response is, and how thoughtful it is. He starts typing immediately. No more games tonight.

 

 **D,**  

**Your email made my day better. Mission accomplished, dude.**

**I LOVE THE SPY IDEA. I definitely could sharpen my skills. How about somewhere casual? The statue in the courtyard. Stick it behind there. I’ll pick it up later. Because I enjoy reading, and I most definitely enjoy when people recommend me things.**

**Oh god, Cora and Laura know?! Tell them A says hi! I don’t know the movie, but haha, I might have to watch it to get the reference.**

**I wouldn’t be flattered. It’s not a big deal. (Is it?)**

**I know the rumour versions of your last year, but I would prefer to hear the real story. If you want. If you don’t want, that’s totally fine. No rules here.**   
  
**A.**

            He doesn’t get an email after that. He curls up in his bed, and passes out thinking about Derek freaking Hale.

 

♚♞♚♞♚♞

            The email he wakes up to is short.

 

**A,**

**The book will be there at the end of lunch.**   
  
**D.**

            He doesn’t respond to it, but it’s the only thing he can think about during his morning classes. When lunchtime rolls around, he’s sitting alone at his usual table waiting for his friends. Stiles watches casually as Derek comes into the courtyard. He sees Stiles and gives him an up-nod in acknowledgement.

            Stiles responds with the same movement, and finds it difficult to tear his eyes away.

            “That’s new,” Allison says, sitting down beside him. She keeps her voice down though. “Does he know?”

            “No,” Stiles responds. “I have stuff to tell you.”

            “Oh goodie!” Allison’s grinning. Or Stiles assumes. He watches as Derek casually pulls a book out of his bag and drops it behind the statue before he moves over to his table. Stiles only looks away when Erica walks up to them and sits down.

            “What’s up, Stilinski?” Erica asks. She smiles at Allison. “Hey.”

            “Hey Erica,” Allison says, polite as always.

            Stiles just says, “We should wait for Lydia and Scott.”

            “Okay,” Erica says. “Can I tell you about my morning?”

            “Sure!” Allison answers.

            Stiles groans. “Not now, Erica.”

            “It was _fabulous_. Boyd stopped by,” Erica explains for Allison. “My boyfriend is fucking awesome. He brought me some homemade muffins, my favourite magazine, and a coffee.”

            Stiles tilts his head at her.

            “That’s so nice,” Allison responds.

            Erica sees Stiles’ look and says, “ _Hey_ , Boyd and I don’t just have awesome sex all the time. We’re cute.”

            “That was a weird thing to walk into,” Scott’s voice comes suddenly. He sits down beside Allison. Erica chuckles and gives him an honest apologetic expression. Stiles turns to see Lydia strutting towards them.

            She slips in her usual seat.

            “I see we’re all here,” Lydia says in place of a normal greeting. “Have you told them yet?”

            “No,” Stiles mumbles. He glances over at Derek, who’s pulling out his phone and ignoring his friends. He looks away and says, “Okay, so Lydia and Allison wanted me to tell _you know who_ about my _you know what_ a few weeks ago.”

            “Hale, right?” Erica asks. She knows well enough to keep her voice low.

            “Yeah. _Lydia_ set up this awful email account and told me to write him a letter anonymously,” Stiles explains. Scott nods. Erica’s eyebrows go up. He powers through because if he stops now, he’ll never get it out. “I don’t know. He seemed to be having a bad day, so I sent him an email. Told him to try Mama’s Bakery.”

            “ _That_ ’s why he came in? I thought Boyd told him about it,” Erica says. She nods. “Huh. No wonder why he seemed nervous.”

            “He did?” Stiles shakes his head. “No. Anyway, so today is only Day Three. But…we’ve been emailing. And it’s been _really_ nice. And he has placed a book behind that statue for me to read.”

            Scott’s head turns, but the others know better than to be obvious.

            “And?” Lydia prompts.

            “After my mom died, I went to the Beacon Park. I saw Derek there. He would’ve been twelve, I was eleven, and his dog had just died. I went and sat with him, and we kind of just mourned together. Derek mentioned it in one of the emails,” Stiles rushes to explain. He glances over carefully to Derek’s table. None of them are paying any attention to anyone else. It’s nice.

            “Wow,” Scott murmurs, “I think I remember you telling me about that.”

            “And Derek came into the bakery again last night,” Erica interjects. Everyone looks at her. “Stiles, Derek and I sat around and talked.”

            “ _Yeah_.”

            “That’s why he nodded at you,” Allison whispers. “You guys have bonded!”

            “Sort of,” Stiles says. He groans loudly. “This is so messy.”

            “It’s kind of exciting,” Scott tells him. “I’m surprised you didn’t tell us about this immediately after it happened.”

            “This _is_ immediately after it happened. It’s been three days!” Stiles defends under his breath. His phone buzzes. He pulls it out of his pocket. “I just got an email.”

            “Read it!” Lydia encourages.

 

**A,**

**Book is in place. My sisters are officially trying to figure out who you are, but I haven’t let them read the emails. They don’t know my password either – but I updated it just in case.**

**It’s not that big of a deal, but it’s nice, A.**

**Maybe I’ll tell them to you. Later. I hope you’re enjoying your lunch.**   
  
**D.**

“I want to read it,” Erica hisses. Stiles casually hands his phone to her because there's nothing personal in the email, glancing over at Derek. He’s not paying any attention to them though. Not that Stiles had expected him to do so. She hums before handing his phone back to him. “I don’t know him well. He’s best friends with Boyd though, and I know his sisters a bit. I’m guessing he’s into this mystery person.”

            “Maybe,” is as far as Stiles will admit. “But if that’s the case, I’m screwed.”

            “Not so,” Lydia hums. “I think you might actually have a chance here, Stilinski.”

            He stares at her. She’s crazy.

 

♚♞♚♞♚♞

            Lydia might not be as crazy as he had thought.

            It takes Stiles about a month, but then he receives the email that changes their strange relationship. They’ve been sending an email to each other almost every day. Sometimes one of them misses a day, and sometimes the emails fly back and forth over the course of a couple of hours.

            Derek officially knows all of Stiles’ secrets, except the fact that he’s _Stiles_. They’ve talked about why Stiles has a crush on him—but Stiles keeps the real reason, the reason that he’d gotten obsessed with Derek to himself. They also discussed the book recommendation, and started trading books and movies. They’d hide them around the school, but never spy to see who picked it up.

            The past four weeks have been strangely nice. Stiles focuses a lot more on school, and it might have a bit to do with the fact that he likes to sit across the same table from Derek in the library.

            Their real life relationship has changed. They do homework—silently—together, and then when they’re done, they head to Mama’s Bakery on Tuesdays and Thursdays to hang out with Erica. Sometimes she sits with them, sometimes she doesn’t. Derek is comfortable with Stiles enough now to say ‘hi’ in the hallways.

            It’s been life changing, really.

            He’s sitting in Finstock’s class, not retaining a damn thing about economics, when his phone lights up on his desk. Even if Coach Finstock yells at him, Stiles doesn’t care.

 

 **A,**

**I skipped my second class today. I’m sitting in the library, and I thought it was time I write this. Cora and Laura have been urging me to talk to you about it because I won’t talk to anyone else. I guess the reason today sucks is because it’s the anniversary of when I asked out Kate Argent. How shitty.**

**I don’t know what to say. I guess writing down my thoughts is easier than having to verbally say them. I’m going to go on a limb and trust you. I want to, I really do. It’s hard for me.**

**None of this is to ever be repeated in any form of communication.**

**I was sixteen. Kate was twenty-five. Right there should have been my first clue to stay away from her. I didn’t. I fought _so damn hard_ to be public with her. My parents almost kicked me out. Kate just seemed to ‘get me’ and she really seemed to ‘care’ about me. We did everything couples in love do. It was real for me.**

**It was an intense seven months. Kate found out that my trust fund wasn’t as much as she wanted. She took off with an old guy. I forget his name.**

**She threatened my family after she dumped me. I don’t know if she would’ve ever gone through on her threats, but I know she wanted to. We had to get a restraining order and press charges. This is a woman I thought loved me. It was my fault. I don’t know how I fell so easily for her words. It was probably the sex.**

**She almost tore me away from my family, and only convinced me to continue living at home to get my trust fund when I turned 18. I don’t know how I didn’t see it...**

**You emailed me because you had a crush on me. I’m sorry…the past month has been great. I would say that I’m not ready to move on, except that I’m currently interested in someone.**

**I wish you the best. It’s been nice getting to know you. Part of me wishes I had learned who you are.**   
  
**D.**

 

“Bilinski!” Coach’s voice comes when Stiles gets to the end of the email. He looks up. “What are you doing?”

            “Nothing,” Stiles mumbles. He starts packing away his stuff. Scott gives him a puzzled look. “Coach, I’m sorry. I have to go.”

            Coach shouts some stuff, but Stiles doesn’t listen. He walks into the library, and finds Derek. Even if Derek’s interested in someone else—which is completely fair—Stiles refuses to let him be alone. Nothing’s going to change.

            He swears it.

            “Stiles, what are you doing here?” Derek asks, looking up at him with suspicion.

            “Coach kicked me out of class. What are _you_ doing here?” Stiles asks, as he settles down in a chair.

            “Didn’t feel like class. Mr. Harris is a boring dweeb,” Derek says. He’s fidgeting with his hands.

            “I wasn’t expecting you to be here,” Stiles lies. He glances down at his cell phone for the time. “Want to get an early lunch?”

            “We’re taking my Camaro,” Derek says, standing up. Stiles gives him a bright smile, and is pleased when he starts to return it.

 

♚♞♚♞♚♞

 

            “What are you _talking_ about?” Stiles asks, laughing as they get out of the car. He casually shoves Derek. “You’re fucking nuts, you know that? And your opinion is _wrong_.”

            “I’m pretty sure the definition of opinion implies that there are no wrong opinions,” Derek tells him, but he’s laughing.

            Stiles rolls his eyes. “Dude, you’re so wrong. I bet I could get Lydia to back me up.”

            “Please don’t,” Derek says. “She’s scary smart.”

            “Exactly!”

            Derek bumps into Stiles’ shoulder. “We’re going to be late to third period.”

            “I know. I think the end of lunch bell rang,” Stiles says. He looks up at Derek though as they enter the school. “How much do you care?”

            “Today? Not one damn bit.” Derek shakes his head. “I know it’s Wednesday, but after lacrosse practice, do you want to go to Mama’s Bakery?”

            “Oh god, you just _want_ me to get fat!” Stiles says, laughing. Derek gives him an innocent look. “Let’s do pizza instead.”

            “Sure, pizza sounds good.” Derek nudges Stiles when the reach his locker. “The halls are empty. I should get to my locker before I walk in thirty minutes late.”

            He rolls his eyes. “So you _do_ care. Sure. I’ll see you at lacrosse practice.”

            “I don’t know why you bother showing up.”

            “Take that back!” Stiles shouts down the hall, as Derek walks away laughing. “The bench needs me!”

            Derek glances back and waves before disappearing around a corner. Stiles has a hard time keeping the smile off his face.

 

♚♞♚♞♚♞

            During lacrosse practice, Stiles idly sits on the bench. Derek had tried encouraging him to participate, but he told him that he wanted to sit this one out. Derek didn’t argue much after that.

            He pulls out his phone and starts typing.

 

 

 **D,**

**I admit I’m surprised you told me at all. I won’t tell anyone. That’s not the point of _this_ and besides, if I told someone…you’d know who I was. It’s safe with me. I didn’t start this because I had a crush on you. I mean, my friends started this because I had a crush on you and they don’t always know boundaries. But I didn’t start _this_ because of that. I started it because you were having a bad day.**

**Remember that.**

**I’m not going anywhere. I’m not asking you for a relationship. I’m not even asking you to figure out who I am. I’m not asking you for anything. I won’t.**

**What Kate did to you was awful. It was cruel, and unfair, and _not your fault_. Don’t blame yourself. Firstly, you were _sixteen_. She was twenty-five. She took advantage. I am so sorry. You were right. You thought you loved her, because she made you think that. She gave you a ‘real’ relationship, she gave you that experience, and then she destroyed it.**

**That fucking sucks, dude.**

**Maybe you should open up to someone in person about it. I’m not sure I can be much help. I can’t hold your hand or hug you tightly.**

**I’ll keep talking if you do.**   
  
**A.**

            He puts his phone away, and lies down on the bench. He closes his eyes. Derek had been through a lot. Stiles doesn’t want to break his trust again. He glances out at the field, and decides to write one more email.

 

**D,**

**You can never know who I am.**

**I don’t want you to be disappointed, hurt, or upset if you find out.**

**Trust that, please.**

**A.**

            Stiles heads into the locker room twenty minutes before practice ends, and wishes he hadn’t come to practice today. He could’ve skipped the whole thing. It had hurt too much to look at Derek, knowing what he knows. His crush had grown into something more serious, and it’s not something Stiles wants to think about.

            He calls Lydia, who answers with a bored tone. “ _Stiles._ ”

            “I think I fucked up,” Stiles mumbles.

            “ _How_?” she asks.

            “Lydia, it’s only been a _month_ and I…I’m feeling things.” Stiles sighs as he tugs off a shoe. “He doesn’t know and I don’t want to…I’m not sure I can do it anymore. It _hurts_.”

            She sighs. “ _Stiles, you’ll have to make a choice. Keep talking to him anonymously or be his friend in person._ ”

            “Don’t you get it though? I can’t be his friend, because I betrayed him. I also can’t be only his online friend because I’ll miss him.” Stiles groans. He tugs his shorts down. “I’m fucking screwed, Lydia.”

            “ _Then I guess it’s either you keep doing both or you stop both._ ”

            “Fuck.”

            “ _I’m sorry, Stiles. I never meant for you to get hurt. I just wanted Derek to know someone as great, as kind, and as annoying as you exists._ ”

            “I know,” Stiles mumbles. “I love you, Lyd.”

            “ _I love you too_. _Do you want to keep talking_?”

            “No, I have to figure out how to end my friendship over pizza.” Stiles sighs. “Thanks.”

            “ _Love you_ ,” she says before hanging up.

            Stiles pulls his normal clothes back on.

 

**♚♞♚♞♚♞**

 

            “Derek, it’s been cool hanging out with you,” Stiles starts before they order their pizza. He looks up, and gives Stiles a smile.

            “Yeah, I’m glad I went into the bakery. I’d been dying to talk to you for months.”

            “Wait, _what_?” Stiles sputters.

            “Yeah. It’s weird, I know. Let’s move on. What kind of pizza do you want?”

            “Meat lover’s,” Stiles finds himself saying.

            He doesn’t tell Derek their friendship is over, because Derek distracts him with their conversation until suddenly, Stiles is back at home wondering how the hell that had happened.

            Twenty minutes later, he gets an email.

 

**S,**

**I can guarantee that I won’t be disappointed, hurt, or upset.**   
  
**D.**

_That’s short,_ Stiles thinks. He’s wondering what he’s going to respond with when he reads it again.

 

**S**

            Derek knows.

 

♚♞♚♞♚♞

            “What do you mean?” Allison asks the next day at lunch. “Derek knows it’s you, and _you_ know he knows, and you’re pretending you don’t know?”

            “Pretty much,” Stiles admits. He puts his forehead on the table. “I’m so screwed. Why did you let me do this?”

            “Seemed like an okay idea at the time,” Allison admits. She strokes Stiles’ back. “You should probably talk to him about it.”

            “And say _what_? He knows _everything_. He knows…oh my god, he knows I’ve been crushing on him! For _years_.” Stiles groans loudly.

            “What’s going on?” he hears Scott ask.

            “Derek knows.”

            “ _Whoa_ ,” Lydia says. She punches Stiles’ arm as she sits down beside him. “Why didn’t you tell me that?”

            “Because I just found out last night, when Derek referred to me as _S_ and not _A_.”

            “Typo?” Scott suggests.

            “Definitely not,” Allison says. “Look who just came outside.”

            Stiles doesn’t lift his head until a textbook lands on the table suddenly. His head shoots up to see Erica frowning at him. “I’ve been told to tell you that there’s something waiting for you behind the sculpture. Now why is that and why haven’t I been informed of the recent update in which _Derek knows it’s you_?”

            “It’s new. I was just told too,” Scott assures her.

            Stiles gets up. There’s no avoiding it now. He picks up a piece of paper behind the statue.

 

**_Stiles,_**

**_I thought you deserved a handwritten letter after everything that’s happened. I knew it was you from the beginning. Well, I had hopes. Erica’s mentioned Mama’s Bakery to the team before. She also had mentioned that you visited her sometimes. She must have said that a year ago. I don’t know why I remembered it._**

**_I was positive it was you after the second email. I saw you with those arm floaties on two summers ago._**

**_Let me be honest with you. I’ve been curious about you for a long time, probably since that day I lost my dog and you told me we could make life a little less bad together._**

**_You said you’re not asking me for anything. So I’m asking you. Will you consider a date with me?_**

**_Because if you’re not going anywhere, neither am I._ **

**_Derek_ **

****

            Stiles fingers tremble. He looks up to see Derek watching him closely. He nods, and Derek rushes towards him.

            “Stiles—”

            “Derek, I should’ve told you.” Stiles waves the letter in the air. “It would’ve been pointless, since you knew. But I should have…”

            “It’s okay. I’m not mad.”

            “No? You should be furious,” Stiles grumbles. “Or maybe creeped out.”

            “I’m neither. I trust you, Stiles.”

            The words make his head snap up. If he’s learned anything about Derek in the past month, it’s that trust doesn’t come lightly. A smile reaches his lips. “Yeah?”

            “Yeah. I have a question though,” Derek says.

            “What?” Stiles asks.

            “Whose idea was it to call your email _letterstoyou_?”

            “Lydia’s, all Lydia’s!” Stiles says, laughing. “Isn’t that the cheesiest, most ridiculous thing _ever_?”

            “Just a bit,” Derek murmurs. He reaches forward and slips his fingers into Stiles’, and they share a smile. “Want to go get ice cream before third period?”

            “Actually…I’d like to introduce you to my friends instead. If that’s okay?” Stiles asks him, lightly squeezing his hand.

            Derek smiles. “Sure.”

            Stiles tugs him towards his table and proudly says, “Guys? I’d like you to meet Derek freaking Hale.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> This didn't turn out the way I meant it to, so I'm just going to tell myself it's a writing exercise and pretend that it doesn't matter that it's ... _this._ (Also: Derek figured out Stiles from the beginning, so that's why I feel like he would be fairly open to continue emailing him. Because I'm not sure that canon!Derek would. I feel as though canon!Derek would push his laptop at Peter and go, "What is this?" and Peter would respond, because it's Peter. But that's just me.)
> 
> · [find me here if you want](http://www.foxerica.tumblr.com)


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